


if what we had was real how could you be fine?

by ThisIsOnYouPrincess



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, idk how to write angst tbh, kinda angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:25:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2445335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisIsOnYouPrincess/pseuds/ThisIsOnYouPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Cause I'm not fine at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if what we had was real how could you be fine?

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back, back again.   
> I is back. Tell a friend.   
> (You don't care. I know this.)  
> (That was a perfect example of the terrible grammatical errors of my generation. I also know this)
> 
> Listen to this amazing song whilst reading, you won't regret it. (Song that the fic is based on, btw. 'Amnesia' by 5 Seconds of Summer)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DCCJCILiX3o

_Stupid bellamy,_ Clarke thought, _with his stupid hair and his stupid freckles and his stupid freaking biceps._ She was staring at him from across camp, and he looked unfairly good chopping up wood. 

_He_ has no problem putting their _thing_ behind him.

_So why did she?_

Was it not real to him? Was that it? Was she not, you know,  _good_ enough? I mean, he  _has_ slept with somewhere near to  _all_ of the girls in camp (Octavia an obvious exception to this statement, but come on, Clarke's upset!). 

_God_ , Clarke hadn't overthought this much since - well, ever.

But here she was, completely smitten whilst he whistles across camp, flirting with every girl he sees.

Nothing's changed.

And she didn'tknow why she expected it to. He _is_ Bellamy Blake, after all. Big-time player and the most needed person in camp.

Why should it make a difference that _she_ needed him? She wasn't the only one.

"Clarke. _Clarke."_ Tanned fingers clicked in her face and she came out of her reverie, looking once more at Bellamy working to see that Bellamy wasn't standing where he previously was, chopping wood.

No. Bellamy was standing right in front of her, smirking like the devil had personally congratulated him.

"Oh, uh, hi Bellamy." She smiled softly at him, slightly irked that she hadn't noticed him sneak up on her.

"You mind telling me why you were staring at that tree, Princess?" He smirked at her, knowing full well that she wasn't staring at a goddamn tree, rather than at him. "I mean, you've never been known to shirk your duties, why now?" He knew _exactly_ how to ruffle her feathers. 

"I am _not_ shirking my duties!" She practically shrieked - yep, he definitely knew how to press her buttons - and he laughed and shook his head. He patted her shoulder absentmindedly - little touches had become something of a recurring theme between the two - and a thousand needles pricked at her skin where his skin touched hers. 

Ugh, that is _so_ cliché, but so true.

She hated him.

No, she didn't. Not _really_.

Not at all.

"Nice to know, I guess?" He laughed. She said it out loud. She fucking said that out loud. He turned, shaking his head and laughing once more, and with one more pat on the head - because she hated it - he's gone. 

"And for the record, Princess?" He called once he was a few steps away. "I don't hate you either."

*****

The next time they see each other, night has fallen and Clarke had been plied with drinks by Monty and Jasper, because she should 'loosen up'. She protested heavily at first, but it seems that protests get increasingly weaker when alcohol is already in your bloodstream, so by the time she finds Bellamy she's smashed.

"Hey there, Princess." He grinned genuinely at her - something else that's become more prevalent between them recently - and automatically reached out to steady her lolling frame.

"Heyyyyy, Bell." She grinned back as she sat - slumped, really - next to him on his log. "How're you?"

"I'm fine thanks." He was kind of irked that someone had gotten her this drunk when he wasn't in the immediate vicinity to protect her - they _were_ in a camp full of delinquents. "You?" His annoyance was battling his amusement at how cute and confused by everything she was in this state.

"Why're you fine, Bell?" She asked, her voice timid like a child afraid of being told off for asking questions she shouldn't.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Exactly." She stated, like that explained her whole point. Then she decided to elaborate, in typical rambl-y Clarke fashion. "I mean, you're completely fine. But why wouldn't you be? I mean you're Bellamy Blake, the player and you've slept with all the girls in this camp - well, not Octavia, because that'd be... weird - but yeah, anyway. And you've probably had better than me so there's obviously nothing to dwell on. But I've only had Finn and now you, and well, I've dwelled on Finn enough, so I guess it's your turn, so um, yeah. I haven't stopped thinking about you but I'm really stupid because of course you haven't thought about me, because it wasn't _real_ not to you. So why wouldn't you be fine?" She took a deep breath and Bellamy placed his hand over her mouth before she had chance to start again. 

"Are you actually being serious?" He asked, which was probably a stupid question to ask her. She nodded, glancing at his hand as if to tell him to let go, but he ignored her. "Seriously, Clarke. I haven't stopped thinking about you. _Of course_ it was fucking real, why wouldn't it be? No. Don't answer that. We're going to talk about this in the morning when I'm not sleep deprived and you're not drunk. So c'mon. You're going to bed." 

"Do I at least get to go to your bed?" She piped up the second that he let go of her mouth. He rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Damn, Princess, you're so much more forward when you're drunk." He shook his head, pulling her up and walking her to her tent.


End file.
